


The Art of Ignorance

by Lilmizzhugable13



Category: Peanuts
Genre: Angst, F/M, High School, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-10-09 21:45:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10422432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilmizzhugable13/pseuds/Lilmizzhugable13
Summary: For as long as he can remember, Schroeder has been the center of Lucy's universe, something he's become accustomed to. But when Lucy exits his life for just one afternoon, Schroeder suddenly finds himself lost and deeply affected by it. Why? Well, that's what Schroeder's trying to figure out.





	1. Chapter 1

For all of his life, Schroeder had never been with a silent Lucy.

Of course she wasn't silent. She was Lucy van Pelt! She was practically the definition of loud and obnoxious. It is said that her first word was "blockhead." She doesn't know what boundaries are, nor does she understand what privacy means, and Schroeder knew that all too well.

Every day ever since they were kids, she made it a point to bother and bug him all day, every day. After school, she'd barge into his house and lean against his piano, spewing out random statements of their "wedding" and future plans. Usually, Schroder would ignore her, but every now and then he would actually pay attention to what she was saying, and he would roll his eyes. Her predictions were absolutely ridiculous and impossible.

Now that they were in high school, nothing had changed. Lucy still claimed they were bound by fate, she'd still come after school to his house, and she'd babble on about random things. Schroeder no longer used that small baby piano; instead, when he turned 15, his parents bought him a grand piano, one that even Beethoven would find beautiful. Of course, the first person to notice this change was Lucy (who had come to his house early in the morning to wish him a happy birthday). When she came to his house that afternoon, she had enough respect to not lean against the piano or sit next to Schroeder on his bench. Instead, she got a chair, sat on the small desk right next to his piano, and continue to babble on.

This seemed to be Schroeder's daily routine, until one day, it all changed.

On Monday, Lucy didn't come to his house after school. She had bothered him all day at school like usual, but when Schroeder got home and sat at the piano, Lucy never joined him. He didn't hear the door slam open and close, he didn't hear her greet his parents by their first name (since she decided they were going to get married, Lucy figured she should consider his parents as family), he didn't hear her impossibly heavy footsteps up the stairs, and he didn't see her march into the room while singing, "Oh Schroeder!"

She didn't come today at all, and Schroeder sighed in relief. He'd finally get to play his piano in peace and silence. He would be able to enjoy and wallow in the beautiful sounds of Beethoven. Beethoven would be the loudest thing in the room. There wouldn't be any annoying nagging or awful predictions; it'd only be Schroeder, his piano, and his idol. Nothing else.

Or at least it was supposed to be. Two minutes into Beethoven's _Für Elise_ and Schroeder had stopped playing, listening to the deafening silence. It was too quite, too empty. There was that empty feeling Schroeder couldn't possibly shake off, but that was what he precisely tried to do. He disregarded the awkward tension in the room and continued where he left off. It wasn't until one minute later and a million of mistakes and redoes that Schroeder groaned and placed his head heavily on the keys. He couldn't play correctly. His fingers would get stuck and his hands couldn't slide through the keys gracefully. He'd stumble and get stuck in the most random of places, and that bothered Schroeder.

Why couldn't he play?

Eventually, Schroeder closed the lid over the keys and sighed, walking out of his practice room with his shoulders sagged and his head hung in defeat. It wasn't until he was in his room sprawled on his bed that he felt angry. Even when Lucy wasn't here, she still found a way to bother him.

The next day at school, Schroeder glared at Lucy. He couldn't sleep all night (his dreams were plagued with Beethoven disappointedly shaking his head and Lucy laughing at him while horribly-played movements sung in the background), but as he looked at Lucy, it seemed she didn't have any problems last night.

She had on a light blue shirt with blue jeans and black flats. Her long hair was let loose in her natural curls which was a surprise all on its own. Sometime between middle school, a trend passed around throughout all the girls, and that was straight hair. Everyone, including Lucy, fell into the popularity and straightened their hair, no matter the damage it could cause. But when Lucy did decide to give her hair a break, she would always keep it up in a bun. She never had her hair curly and loose, but when it was, Schroeder always chuckled at the heated glares sent her way.

Her hair was something to be jealous of. It was unbelievably pitch black, unbelievably shiny, and, despite the years of using a heated iron, unbelievably soft. It was also long, but Schroeder never knew how long it truly was. When she had it loose in her curls, she always wore a blue bow that held her hair up in some intricate manner, just like she had today. Her hair reached to her mid-back when done in that hairstyle, and if Schroeder was being completely honest with himself, it was probably the best feature Lucy had. Her hair was something that always caught Schroeder's attention.

But it didn't distract him of his bitterness. He was still mad at her absence yesterday, but how was he supposed to tell her that? He couldn't exactly go up to her and say, "Since you were not at my house yesterday pestering me, I couldn't concentrate on playing the piano, and it's all your fault." That would mean he, to some degree, enjoyed and even _needed_ Lucy's company, and that wasn't right. That would mean Lucy won, and in this little cat-and-mouse game they were unintentionally playing, Schroeder will never let Lucy win. He couldn't.

So he just stayed silent, glaring at Lucy and scowling every time she laughed. She looked completely happy and unaffected by the sudden change in their daily routine. In fact, she looked different in a good way. Her face looked almost picturesque with rosy cheeks, bright black eyes, and smooth skin. And whenever she laughed, Schroeder couldn't help but smile. It was contagious. Lucy was contagious.

Lucy wormed her way into everyone's lives. While someone with her personality would've immediately been shunned and hated throughout school, Lucy was somehow well received. Then, as the years flew by, it seemed as if everyone knew and generally liked Lucy. Even Schroeder tolerated her, something he had come to terms with a few years back, but he never realized just how much tolerated her. Maybe he even considered her as a friend. Maybe that's why he was deeply affected by her absence yesterday.

Yes. That was the most logical reason, so Schroeder had to forgive her for yesterday.

But he couldn't forgive her for completely ignoring him today.

And she did! Lucy van Pelt actually left Schroeder alone for an entire day! That was a historic moment, but somehow, it went unnoticed. No one seemed to care. All day, Lucy didn't say one word to Schroeder. She didn't even acknowledge him! Even in English class, the only class they had together with Mrs. Myers, Lucy didn't spare him one look. As soon as Mrs. Myers checked attendance, Lucy asked if she could be excused to go to some place Schroeder couldn't hear. With a nod of confirmation and armed with a note, Lucy gathered her things and left, and no one cared. Not Violet, Patty, Frieda, Sally, Linus, Charlie Brown, or Peppermint Patty; only Schroeder noticed, and that bothered him.

Why? Schroeder didn't know, and even though he spent the entire class thinking about these events, he couldn't come up with a reasonable answer. As he walked back home, his mind was completely preoccupied. It wasn't until his fingers were on the keys that he realized this was getting on his nerves too much. He was blowing a small action out of proportion, and frankly, it was pathetic. Maybe no one cared about Lucy leaving him be because there wasn't anything to care about.

Yes. That was it. Schroeder was just overreacting. There was nothing out of the ordinary. Sure, Lucy left him alone all day (a feat that seemed near impossible), but it was not as if the world was going to end. There was nothing wrong or unusual with Lucy's actions. Even though she treated Schroeder like he was the sun and the moon, she was her own person. There were days when maybe she just wanted to be alone or do other things. Maybe she was out with her friends, doing girl stuff that Schroeder wouldn't understand. Maybe she wa-

"Why aren't you playing?" Schroeder snapped his head up at the sudden noise, even though he knew exactly who said it.

It was Lucy standing at his doorway. She was there, staring at him in confusion with a small book held in her arm. Her arm covered up the title.

Schroeder licked his dry lips. He quickly tried to think of a lie. "I was waiting," he unconsciously said, telling the truth. He cursed in his head.

Lucy's eyebrows furrowed. "Waiting for what?" She asked, her nose crinkling up in the cutest way possible.

Schroeder's heart stopped. Did he actually think that? Did he actually think Lucy and cute in the same sentence? Did he actually described one of Lucy's actions as cute?

"Schroeder?" Lucy called, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. Schroeder flinched and shifted down the bench, scooting away from Lucy. He stayed looking at her expectantly, completely surprised at his own actions. This was hardly the first time Lucy had touched him. On the contrary, there was never a time when she refrained from showing her affection physically. Usually, they were small touches such as this one, but this was the first time Schroeder had ever flinched away from Lucy.

Why did he do that? Was something wrong? Nothing seemed to be. Was he not feeling well? Well, he felt perfectly fine, though he was a bit flustered by his actions. Did he get scared? Of course he didn't. Although the touch was unexpected, it was a gentle tap on his shoulder. It was nothing to be afraid of. So then why was he?

Schroeder looked closely at Lucy's reaction, and he was slightly disappointed. All she did was frown slightly before shrugging and walking to her usual chair near the desk. He didn't know what he was expecting, or why he was expecting something for that matter, but he felt underwhelmed by her reaction. She was Lucy van Pelt! Usually. If Schroeder rejected her affection, she would only continue to administer her impeding feelings, not give up and completely dismiss his actions. Then again, Lucy wouldn't have missed out yesterday.

Lucy sat on the chair and crossed her legs, opening her book. A small strand of curly, black hair fell over her face, and Schroeder's fingers twitched, longing to pull the hair back behind her ear.

Schroeder swallowed heavily and turned back to his piano, hands shaking as he tried to divulge in the music of the First Movement of _Moonlight Sonata_. Lucy never spoke at all until she left.

This continued on for the rest of the week. For Wednesday and Thursday, Schroeder would wake up and go to school early, every day arriving 10 minutes earlier than the day before. He would hang around his good friend Charlie Brown, but he'd make sure to hang with and pay close attention to Linus. Since he would get to school earlier than his sister (Schroeder had no idea how that was possible), Schroeder would listen carefully to anything Linus would say about his sister and if she was currently going through any problems. These past couple of days, nothing of importance was mentioned, and today was no different. It was the end of the week, and honestly, Schroeder was losing his mind.

He couldn't think straight at all. All throughout school, his mind would be preoccupied with thoughts of Lucy. Why she was ignoring him throughout the day, why she wouldn't speak to him while in school, why she wouldn't rant on about her plans for their impossible future. There was absolutely no answer, and that pissed him off.

And to make matters worse, throughout this entire week, Lucy wore her hair down. Her tempting, curly, dark, inviting hair was put on display, parading and teasing Schroeder to wit's end. But the worst part of it all was that everyone played with Lucy's hair. Violet, Patty, Peppermint Patty, Sally, Marcie; even Charlie Brown touched one of her curly strands. It seemed like anyone with two hands touched Lucy's long locks, except for Schroeder. Schroeder only glared at the hands from his seat, his own fingers twitching with anticipation. Man, if only he was this eager to touch his piano.

These past couple of days, Schroeder couldn't find any motivation to play. He did play of course, but he actually had to force his fingers to press the keys. Also, none of Beethoven's beautiful masterpieces appealed to him. In fact, Schroeder even found himself unconsciously playing Bach's Piano Concerto No. 1 in D-Minor. When he realized what he was playing, Schroeder immediately gasped in disgust and stopped playing. Lucy only looked up from her book for a second before turning her attention back to the book.

That was the thing that pissed Schroeder off the most. Lucy had no idea just what she did to Schroeder, nor did she seem to care how out-of-it Schroeder was. He was completely lost in everything, and he didn't know how to seek help or who he should ask. It was already Friday, and for two days, Schroeder found himself at a dead end.

What was wrong with him?

Did... Did he actually want Lucy to talk? To interrupt? To ruin the beautiful sounds of Beethoven caused by his own fingertips? The logical answer was no, but when there was something that involved Lucy van Pelt, there was never any logic. There was absolutely no way anyone could ever think straight around Lucy because Lucy twisted everything. Every logical thought would suddenly turn into nonsense as Lucy invaded your mind and filled it with thoughts of her.

Everything was always in Lucy's favor, and Schroeder was just another victim. Then again, he always was.

"You know, making all of those mistakes is distracting," Lucy said when Schroeder. Of course, it was just like Lucy to ignore everything and only point out the failures. Never the success of the accomplishments.

Schroeder's irritation only grew. "I didn't think you were paying attention," he spat, glaring at his fingers that refused to cooperate with him.

"As if I could ignore the only time you play horribly." Of course she couldn't ignore it. She could ignore everything else and indulge herself into that stupid book, but when Schroeder messed up, she was the first to mock him.

"What are you reading anyways?" He bitterly said, biting back the insults that longed to escape his mouth.

Lucy, though, was ignorant to his internal struggle, or maybe she didn't care; either way, she finally looked up from her book to meet Schroeder's gaze. " _To Kill a Mockingbird_ by Harper Lee," she said, removing her hands from the cover and showcasing it to Schroeder. "She was the person I got for the report Mrs. Myers assigned."

Schroeder nodded as he thought back to Monday afternoon. For their final, Mrs. Myers decided it would be best if her students write a 5,000 to 8,000 word report on a specific person whose work was critically hailed as a creative masterpiece. There were composers, writers, painters, and other artists amongst the list. Depending on who they were assigned, they would have to write about the figure's early childhood and life, analyze one of their works, and compare and contrast between the work and the person. Schroeder absolutely hated reports (writing wasn't one of his strong suits), but when Mrs. Myers told him he was assigned to Beethoven, Schroeder almost jumped with joy. This final was going to be easy, or so he thought. He hadn't even drafted an outline yet, and it was due this coming Monday. Great.

"I got it from the library on Monday, and I'm almost done with it." And with those words, it felt like a dead weight was lifted from Schroeder's shoulders. So that's where she was on Monday and why she didn't come to Schroeder's after school. "This book is actually pretty cool. I like it."

Schroeder nodded. When a small moment of silence passed between them, he started to panic. He didn't want Lucy to ignore him again. There was no way he could go back to before when it seemed as if Lucy was finally acknowledging him. Even though he'd never had one normal conversation with Lucy and he was completely out of his comfort zone, Schroeder continued the conversation. "What's it about?"

Lucy grabbed her bookmark, placed it on the page she had open, and closed the book. Schroeder let out s small smile. This was how it was supposed to be. Lucy was supposed to only focus on him and not on some old fictional book. "Well, the main character is Scout Finch, and she lives in Alabama with her brother and her father during the Great Depression. Her father is a lawyer, and he is defending a black man from a false rape charge, but since racism was a big thing during that time, Scout and her family are threatened by everyone in their community. But her father doesn't want to drop the case because he doesn't want an innocent man to get sent to jail. There's also a side story about Scout, her brother Jem, and this person called Boo Radley, but if I tell you about it, it'll just confuse you," she explained, and Schroeder only nodded. He didn't pay attention to a word she said. Instead, he focused on her facial expressions. There were times when she looked passionate in her words, but then those expressions were juxtaposed with ones of confusion. Her lips opened and closed, and sometimes, Schroeder could see her pink tongue peeking out from behind her mouth. Her hair swished around freely with her hand gestures, and Schroeder only followed the movement. "Want me to read you something?"

Although Schroeder didn't really care about the book, he nodded his head and said, "Sure." He didn't want to know what a character said; he just wanted Lucy's attention. Even if it meant he needed to sit through a boring excerpt, he needed Lucy to pay attention to him for just a second.

Much to Schroeder's delight, he got more than what he bargained for. Lucy stood up from the desk chair and walked over to Schroeder. Motioning to the bench, she politely asked permission to sit next to him, which he eagerly allowed. She sat down and opened her book back to her previous page. When she realized Schroeder couldn't see the page, she scooted down until she sat directly next to him, leaning on him so they could both comfortably see the page. She laid her head on his shoulder, and Schroeder swore his heart stopped beating for a second.

He barely realized just how delicate she was as she carefully leaned her weight against him. She weighed absolutely nothing, and he felt almost no pressure from her body which left him slightly disappointed. Still, her curls brushed his exposed arm, and that quickly doused the disappointment, and the scent of her perfume beautifully enveloped him. While he despised the plastic, overbearing scent of the cheap "designer" perfume the other girls in their grade wore, he melted at Lucy's. He could identify cinnamon and vanilla in the mixture, and that honestly made Schroeder's heart race.

"Okay, this is Scout's father's last remark at the trial," Lucy said, pointing out the line on the page where she would start reading from. Schroeder only focused on her blue nail polish. That color looked incredible on her.

"Thomas Jefferson once said that all men are created equal, a phrase that the Yankees and the distaff side of the Executive branch in Washington is fond of hurling at us. There is a tendency in this year of grace, 1935, for certain people to use this phrase out of context, to satisfy all conditions. The most ridiculous example I can think of is that the people who run public education promote the stupid idle along with the industrious - because all men are created equal, educators will gravely tell you, the children left behind suffer terrible feelings of inferiority. We know all men are not created equal in the sense some people would have us believe - some people are smarter than others, some people have more opportunity because they are born with it, some ladies make better cakes than others - some people are more gifted than others. But there is one way in this country in which all men are created equal - there is one human institution that makes a pauper the equal of a Rockefeller, the stupid man the equal of Einstein, the ignorant man the equal of any college president. That institution, gentlemen, is a court. It can be the Supreme Court of the United States or the humblest J.P. court in the land, or this honorable court which you serve. Our courts have their faults, as does any human institution, but in this country our courts are the great levelers, and in our all men are created equal. I'm no idealist to believe firmly in the integrity of our courts and in the jury system - that is no ideal to me, it is a living, working reality. Gentlemen, a court is no better than each man of you sitting before me on this jury. A court is only as sound as its jury, and the jury is only as sound as the men who make it up. I am confident that you gentlemen will review without passion the evidence you have heard, come to a decision, and restore this defendant to his family. In the name of God, do your duty." Lucy sighed in contentment, completely moved by Atticus Finch's powerful speech.

Schroeder was completely moved by Lucy. The sunlight from the window hit her perfectly, causing her skin to glow and her hair to shine. Her forehead was creased in concentration as she deciphered what the character meant in his speech. When it seemed as if she understood, her face lit up as her lips drew into smile. Her pink, plump lips pulled back to reveal a row of perfectly white and straight teeth, and Schroeder just stared. The word "beautiful" threatened to spill out of his lips, but it was stopped when one pesky black curl fell from behind from her ear and over her face. Lucy didn't mind, but for Schroeder, it ruined everything. His fingers twitched.

Before he could stop himself, Schroeder moved his hand to the strands and held it in between his fingers for a few seconds. Her hair was almost exactly how it looked like; soft, silky, and perfect. Lucy didn't notice, but when Schroeder moved the strand back behind her ear and allowed his hand to linger in the junction of her neck and ear, Lucy slowly turned from her book to Schroeder's eyes. It was almost to much for him.

Big, dark, deep eyes staring back at him. Round, rosy cheeks that were begging to be caressed. Smooth, peach skin that glowed in the sunlight. Full, pink, kissable lips. A small button nose centering all of the features. Schroeder was completely shocked at everything he failed to see in Lucy van Pelt.

She was beautiful. Completely captivating. She was the most perfect being ever created, and she was currently sitting next to him on the bench of his piano with a confused look on her face.

"Schroeder?" She quietly asked, her voice clear and careful. Unfortunately, it wasn't careful enough.

Schroeder immediately snapped from his daze and stood up, distancing himself from Lucy. He walked away from her slowly, but soon he realized he wasn't far enough from her. Her confused gaze pierced him, leaving him completely breathless. He couldn't think straight, but one thought registered in his mind.

He needed to leave. He needed to get away from her.

So he did. He turned around and ran from the room, down the stairs, and out of his house. He could hear Lucy yell, "Schroeder!" after him, but he tried to ignore it and pressed forward. He ran down the street, and when that wasn't enough, he ran a couple of blocks more. He needed to hide, but where could he hide? He just ran away from his own house; where could he go?

Well, what would be the only place where Lucy wouldn't think to search?

With that mindset, Schroeder continued to run until he got to Charlie Brown's house. Once he was there, he quickly knocked and rang the doorbell over and over again until a familiar bald person opened the door.

"Schroeder?" Charlie got out before Schroeder rushed past him towards the living room. When he saw the curtains wide open, he slid them closed and sat down on the recliner, huffing and trying to catch his breath.

Charlie Brown walked cautiously towards his tired friend. He had never seen Schroeder this out-of-breath before. Schroeder wasn't exactly an athlete (even if he used to "play" baseball on Charlie's team), so small physical activities such as running 12 blocks quickly tired him out. Plus, Charlie knew Schroeder wouldn't do something athletic unless it was necessary, and apparently, this was necessary.

"Are you hiding from something?" Charlie asked, and Schroeder frowned. Sometime during middle school, Charlie Brown had somehow become the most intuitive person anyone could ever be in the entire world, but while most of the times that intuition was an asset, Schroeder found it a nuisance.

But still, he liked to consider himself a nice person. He was kind to Lucy van Pelt for years now, he could be kind to Charlie Brown for this instance.

So Schroeder nodded and closed his eyes.

"Is it Lucy?"

Schroeder nodded again. He heard Charlie chuckle a bit, but he ignored it when a small voice in his head started to protest. He was wrong. This wasn't _because_ of Lucy at all. This was _about_ Lucy and what Schroeder did.

Schroeder shook his head. "No, wait..." He mumbled, covering his face with his long hands, "that's not right. That's not right."

Charlie Brown nodded his head. "Then what is right?" He asked. Schroeder reacted immediately.

He buried his face deeper into his hands and let out a small groan of discomfort. "I don't know." And that was right. He truly didn't know what was going on with Lucy, what was going on with him, and that really screwed him up.

Thankfully, Charlie Brown knew when to pry and when to change the subject. This situation called for the latter. "Do you want to watch a movie or something? My parents are probably going to bring home pizza in a while, and my sister is over at Linus's."

Schroeder sighed in relief and nodded. Now he'd have some excuse to stay at Charlie's house for a couple of hours and avoid meeting Lucy.

Thank God for Charlie Brown.

Schroeder stayed at his home for almost three hours. The movie lasted for two, and Schroeder had no idea what it was about. Charlie was completely entranced by the explosions and action sequences, but Schroeder's head was lost in thought. His eyes were staring at the TV, trying to match Charlie's enthusiasm, but it was useless. The only thing Schroeder focused on was Lucy. Her teasing her, enticing lips, flushed cheeks, inviting eyes, smooth skin.

After the movie finished, Charlie's parents walked in with, like he predicted, pizza boxes and a bottles of cokes. They were pleasantly surprised at Schroeder's presence because it had been a while since Schroeder had visited. They sat and ate together for another hour before Schroeder felt he had overstayed his welcome. Once the three hours were done and it was almost 10 p.m., Schroeder said goodbye. He thanked Charlie once again before walking back the 12 blocks he ran before.

Once again, Schroeder was completely indebted to Charlie Brown.

Forty-three minutes later, Schroeder walked into his empty house. Since it was Friday, both of his parents were still at work, and it was obvious Lucy wasn't here. She most likely went home already, so Schroeder was all alone. Normally, this solitude was a blessing. After hours of Lucy's endless annoyance, Schroeder practically cried when she would leave. He would even count down the hours until she left. Now, this loneliness was suffocating. He didn't want to be alone. He wanted Lucy here with him babbling on about nonsensical things like their wedding and their future.

He wanted things to go back to normal before he overreacted and his feelings went haywire.

But as Schroeder laid on his bed to go to sleep, he realized he was not overreacting, nor was he blowing the entire situation out of proportion. Something was definitely different in his feeling towards Lucy van Pelt, and he was terrified to discover what changed.


	2. Chapter 2

Schroeder had never felt so tired in his entire life.

For obvious reasons, he didn't sleep right last night. His dreams were plagued once again by Lucy, but instead of a disappointed Beethoven and horribly played movements, it was only Lucy. She was leaning against his old piano waiting for Schroeder like she did when they were kids, but when Schroeder actually walked in the room and towards the piano, Lucy couldn't see him. He also couldn't touch anything, so it was as if he was a ghost. Still, Lucy waited for him, twirling her curly hair, playing with the blue dress she had on that was an exact replica of the one she wore when they were kids, and reciting the speech from that book she was reading. After what seemed like only a few seconds, however, Lucy got up, shrugged to herself, and walked out of Schroeder's practice room.

Schroeder called after her, but eventually, those calls turned to screams when Lucy didn't hear them. She continued to walk out of his house and down the street, talking with whoever she could. She would laugh, play, and hang out with whoever she meet, not caring about Schroeder's sudden absence. Meanwhile, Schroeder tried to get her attention in any way possible. He would yell at her, try to grab her, and even tried to throw objects at her. Every time he tried, though, his efforts were useless. Lucy couldn't hear anything, and whenever Schroeder tried to grab something, his hand passed through the objects, even if those objects were people. No one noticed him, no one heard him, no one cared. Especially Lucy. He wasn't there with her at all. He didn't exist.

With that horrible nightmare still in his head, Schroeder shakily got up from his bed. He went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth before deciding to take a shower. He was sweating a bit, so maybe a nice, hot shower would do him well. Unfortunately, it did not yield his desired result.

There was absolutely no hot water, so instead of his mind and tense muscles relaxing, the cold water made him shiver. It was horrible, and the only thing he got from that shower was chills and a headache. To make matters worse, as Schroeder was getting out of the shower, he almost fell. If he hadn't caught himself, his day would've been much, much worse.

But that was he only shining moment in his day. The rest of the morning went downhill from there.

His parents were off to work already, so once again, he was left alone in his house. Normally, he would lock himself in his piano room and practice until his fingers fell off, but today, he couldn't even stand the thought of his piano, his pride and glory. His piano used to be his life, the reason why he breathed and lived, but now, Lucy invaded and ruined that feeling. She destroyed the sense of reclusion and importance his piano held. Lucy tainted the purity with her loud mouth and her curly hair and her bright eyes and her blue nail polish...

Lucy always found a way to make herself the most important thing in the room, and while Schroeder was immune to her infection in the early years, he eventually succumbed to the disease that was Lucy van Pelt.

Disease, while a harsh word, was the perfect way to describe Lucy, but the worst part of it all was that there was no cure to that disease. Once you caught it, Lucy latched onto you and infected every part of your life. Your social life, your love life, you private life; whatever you had, it was Lucy's now. Your life revolved around Lucy, whether you realized it or not, and that troubled Schroeder the most.

Lucy affected him deeply all of a sudden, but what if this isn't a recent change? What if his life had always revolved around Lucy, and he just didn't realize it?

Schroeder sulked on the couch as his mood worsened. He used to love being alone; he lived for it, but now, just like his piano, the affection disappeared as Lucy reappeared. Lucy was everywhere now, and Schroeder didn't know what to do.

"All because of one stupid book..." Schroeder said to no one. His stomach growled, but he ignored it. Since his parents left early, there was no breakfast left for him. He didn't know how to cook, either. He would fix himself a bowl of cereal, but there hasn't been milk since the beginning of the week, and he highly doubted there would be any today. Usually, if something like this happened on the weekends, Schroeder would wait until Lucy came so she could cook for the both of them. She loved to cook, and when they would eat after everything was done, she'd go off on how this was like breakfast between a married couple.

Schroeder sighed and closed his eyes. He was so tired. He didn't know what time it was, but it was definitely earlier than when he gets up for school. The sky, while not pitch black, was a dull blue that made everything slightly visible but still hazy. It was also very cold for a spring morning. He was tempted to play Beethoven's symphonies on the home stereo, but he decided against it. Beethoven was the one thing he refused to give up. He couldn't risk Lucy invading and ruining the last remaining solace he found within Beethoven.

Instead, he opted to take a nap, or at least tried to. Every time he tried to doze off, flashes of Lucy would pass through his head. Her blue nail polish, blue bows, blue dress, and her curly hair; everything that was Lucy sprang up in his head. At first, Schroeder would open his eyes and fight against the images, but after a while, he realized his attempts were futile. Lucy would not be pacified, so he just welcomed the thoughts. As time passed, the small ideas eventually grew into memories.

He remembered when they were in the eighth grade and Lucy had to play Juliet in their amateur production of _Romeo and Juliet_ for their Drama Class final. Schroeder played the background music on his piano. She wore this pink dress, and all Schroeder could think of was how horrible the color looked on her. Her eyes and hair looked so dark and dull compared to the bright pink. The dress looked like it was trying to match the shade of her cheeks, but it failed miserably. While everyone else seemed to fawn over the costume, Schroeder detested the pieces of fabric, and Lucy felt the same way. The day after the opening night of their play, Lucy stopped by Schroeder's house and ranted about how tight and ugly the dressed looked on her. She claimed it distracted people from her natural beauty. At that time, Schroeder ignored her, but as he looked back at the memory now, he had to agree with Lucy. That dress did her no justice.

Then, he thought back to sixth grade when Lucy first straightened her hair. She walked into Mr. Hasso's math class with Violet, both showing off their new hairstyle. Patty immediately came running to them, her own hair straightened. After attracting enough attention from the class, they went over to their usual group of girls and loudly discussed their plans for their slumber party that night. Schroeder was with Charlie and Linus, and while they ignored the ruckus caused by the girls, Schroeder felt a deep hatred toward the group, specifically Lucy. At that time, Schroeder dismissed that anger as disgust towards Lucy following the crowd. Now, he realized that wasn't right; that anger was towards Lucy, but it was because of what she did to her hair, her beautiful, curly, amazing hair. It was gone, replaced by a disgusting trend encouraged by peer pressure.

Schroeder opened his eyes to reveal a brighter room. Sunlight shone in from the windows, and he could hear birds chirping. His headache along with his sour mood was gone.

Maybe that was what he needed to do. Maybe he needed to give into Lucy and allow her to take over his entire life. She already did, anyways. Why stop it?

But he wasn't against Lucy invading his life. She already did that since they were little. It was the fact that he was noticing her all of a sudden. Lucy had always been there, worming her way into his life. Why did he suddenly have a problem with it?

No, that wasn't right. He didn't have a problem with Lucy butting into his life. He had a problem with Lucy treating him as if he was nothing but dust in her shoe. When they were kids, Lucy looked at him as if he hung the moon himself. Now, he was unimportant, nonexistent, and worthless. That was what his dream reflected, and her attitude towards him these past days only supported this claim.

Schroeder hated this feeling. He felt like he wasn't good enough. Before, Lucy died for his acknowledgement; yesterday, he was desperate for Lucy's attention. When they were kids, Lucy's rival was Schroeder's piano; now, he was fighting a book for Lucy. When did the tables turn? Was it truly on Monday, or was it much before? Was Schroeder truly this ignorant?

Schroeder shook his head before sitting up, trying to find something to distract himself. He didn't want to venture down this path. He didn't want to think about this. He wanted to ignore the problem and go back to devoting his entire life to Beethoven. He wanted his life to go back to the way it was, where Lucy would smother him with her affections and Schroeder would try to fend her off as best as he could. He wanted to be ignorant towards the unhealthy nature in their relationship.

But his days of blissful ignorance was gone. Everything was messed up now, and Schroeder had to make sense of it.

He suddenly felt trapped, confined by an unknown force that made it hard for him to breathe. He had never been claustrophobic, especially not in a house as big and wide as his, but they feeling fell heavy on his chest. He quickly got up and speed-walked his way outside. He made sure to lock his house before he stuck the key into his pocket and started to walk. He didn't know where he was going, but he made sure to walk away from his house and away from Lucy.

Schroeder walked aimlessly through his neighborhood before realizing he wasn't far enough. So, he walked a couple of blocks down before he found himself in the park. It was Saturday, a day where kids slept in and adults worked early, and as a result, it was unusually empty, something that only happened once in a blue moon. The park was probably the most popular place in his neighborhood since the mall was a few miles away, and the sight of empty playgrounds and vacant seats made Schroeder uneasy, but he took advantage of opportunity. He wanted to be alone, and this beautiful, empty park was the best option available.

Schroeder walked around, doing random things that distracted him from Lucy. He tried to avoid anything that reminded him of her, so he counted how many benches there were, tried to whistle back to birds (for a music prodigy, he was a horrible whistler), and kicked any stray pebbles he saw on the sidewalk. He avoided looking at the sky (the blue reminded him of Lucy), flowers (their beauty reminded him of Lucy), any wildlife (it's _cuteness_ reminded him of Lucy), and almost everything else. It all reminded him of Lucy. Everything.

Schroeder felt infuriated. He came here to forget about Lucy and get his mind off of her, but it was hard to do so when everything was associated with her. His only sanctuary was the ground which is where he kept his gaze. The sidewalk was cracked, dirty, and overall inferior to Schroeder. Lucy never was. In fact, she was the exact opposite. She was incredible, beautiful, powerful, forceful, and...

Schroeder stopped his train of thought when he heard soft sobs next to him. He had made it to the playground, and when he forced himself to look up at the swing set, he cursed at himself.

There was a girl on the swing. She was wearing a white shirt with blue jeans and sandals, and she hung her head down. Although Schroeder couldn't see her face, he knew who it was. No one else in Hennepin had hair as black, as long, and as curly as...

"Lucy?" Schroeder called out, and sure enough, the girl's head shot up, revealing dark eyes that shine with tears.

Lucy sniffed. "Schroeder?" She asked, wiping away the tear streaks on her cheeks.

She was crying. Schroeder wasn't imagining it. She was sitting on the swing in the empty park on a Saturday morning crying all alone, and that struck a nerve in him. For all his life, Lucy did not cry. Sure there would be a few tantrums and dramatic storm-offs when someone told her she wasn't pretty, but even that was rare. The last time that happened was when she was eight years old, and Schroeder hadn't seen her she'd one single tear since.

"Lucy, what's wrong?" He asked in concern as he made his way to Lucy.

Lucy only scowled before looking down at the ground, avoided Schroeder's gaze. "It's stupid," she mumbled.

Schroeder sighed. A lot of things Lucy said were stupid, but had that ever stopped her from saying them? Of course not, so then why is she hesitating? "I don't care," he said, taking a seat on the swing next to her. "I still want to know."

Lucy looked at Schroeder. Schroeder just stared at Lucy. She looked absolutely beautiful, absolutely breathtaking. Her eyes looked like glass, something completely fragile but inspiring. They were so passionate, and Schroeder had never seen them like that before. Her hair was loose in her curls like they had been this entire week, but the only difference was that there was no blue bow holding it up. It was just her curls, and with Lucy sitting down, her hair sat on her lap. Her nose was red at the tip from sniffling, and if Schroeder didn't have any pride, he would definitely call it _cute_.

"He died," Lucy said, sniffling again. Schroeder didn't understand what she meant, so he stayed silent, waiting for her to continue. "The guy from my book who was being charged for fake rape charges," Lucy continued. Schroeder nodded, vaguely remembering the book about mockingbirds Lucy was reading yesterday. "Well, he ends up going to jail even though he was innocent, and later on, he gets killed." Lucy wiped away a few fresh tears that fell, completely oblivious to Schroeder's frown.

Lucy never cried over Schroeder, but she was willing to cry over that stupid book? He was not pleased. _At all_.

Lucy placed her elbows on her knees and buried her face in her hands. "It's so unfair."

"It's just a book, Lucy," he bitterly said, immediately regretting his words.

"I know it's just a book you blockhead!" She yelled at him, roughly wiping away the new batch of falling tears. "It still doesn't make it less sad!"

Schroeder looked down at his shoes before mumbling, "It makes it stupider."

Unfortunately, Lucy heard him. She jolted up from her swing and harshly pushed Schroeder, making him fall to the ground. Schroeder snapped his head towards Lucy, ready to say something until she said, "I hate you so much, Schroeder," and ran away.

Schroeder didn't move, nor did he say something; he just stayed silent, looking at Lucy's retreating figure. It was a bittersweet feeling he felt in that moment as he was laying down on the ground, watching Lucy until she ran to the edge of the park, rounded the corner, and was completely out of sight.

Watching her run freely away from him filled him with a feeling he couldn't describe, but it filled him with the need to smile. Her hair flew wildly behind her, almost as if it was inviting Schroeder to run after her. Unfortunately, her words drove nails and knifes all over his body which kept him rooted to his seat on the ground. He couldn't breathe right, but he didn't know if he should be worried or happy. Should he laugh or cry? Should he be stuck on this feeling or...

No. There was no other option. This feeling was eating him from the inside-out, and there was nothing he could do about it. He just needed to accept it.

Schroeder laid on the grass and stared at sky. The sun was completely lost in grey clouds, but he hardly noticed. His mind was stuck on Lucy, just like it had been these past few days. There was a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he ignored it because he knew Lucy was feeling worse, especially after what Schroeder told her.

Did he really dismiss her like that? Did he really tell her her feelings didn't matter? Well, he didn't tell her, but he did imply it and that's 100 percent worse. He couldn't even imagine what Lucy is thinking. He didn't want to imagine. He knew he screwed up, and right now, he wasn't suffering from his mistake; Lucy was.

Thunder rumbled in the sky, making Schroeder groan. He forced himself to stand up, and after staring at the empty swing where Lucy used to be for a few, long, grueling seconds, Schroeder sighed and trudged back home, his head hung the entire way. He felt like crying, but that was mostly because of the rain. Of course the sky decided to rain right now, right when Schroeder felt the most guilty. It was as if the nature was even against him and his actions, but what could he do? He was so confused and frustrated that he couldn't think straight, let alone understand the array of damage he just caused.

By the time Schroeder got home, he had a headache and was shivering. The headache was from excessively worrying to wit's end; the shivering was from being soaked to the bone by the rain. The storm poured down, but Schroeder didn't care. He had better things to worry about than getting a little wet.

Unfortunately, his mother didn't think the same. "Schroeder!" She shriek as soon as he got in, making Schroeder jump. "Where were you?! And why were you in the rain?!" She immediately ran over to him and rushed him in, pushing him to the restroom. "Take a shower before you get sick! Now!" She ordered before slamming the door closed. Schroeder sighed before complying with her commands.

If his mother was here, then it must mean it was 6:15 p.m., give or take a few minutes. Even though it wasn't even late, Schroeder was both mentally and physically exhausted. His body ached, his head hurt, and most importantly, his heart was in pain. The worst part of it all was that he didn't even know why. Well, he knew why, but he didn't know why it affected him much, and by it, he meant Lucy. Just her name made Schroeder sigh.

After a five-minute shower (where he scrubbed the place where Lucy pushed him raw), Schroeder turned the water off, dried himself, put fresh pajamas on, and got out of the bathroom. He walked to his room quietly and silently shut the door, avoiding his mother. He could barely understand what happened today; the last thing he wanted was his mother to ask questions. His mother was a prying woman, the complete opposite of Schroeder and his father. She was like another Lucy. Maybe that's why they absolutely adored each other.

Schroeder threw himself on his bed and buried his head in his pillow. He really wanted to cry right now, but he willed away the angry tears. He was just so frustrated.

Why was it that everything he did was wrong? Why was he always the bad guy? Why did Lucy always twist everything around to make everything in her favor? Why was Schroeder fretting over every little thing he did? Why now? Why is it so important now?

Well, so much for forgetting Lucy. Now, she was the only thing on his mind, and Schroeder didn't know how he felt about that.


	3. Chapter 3

Schroeder wanted to see her. No, he needed to see her.

It's officially been one day, two hours, and 14 minutes since Schroeder saw Lucy, and her absence has been driving him insane. He would pace back and forth throughout his house, turn on the TV, flip through the channels, turn it back off, count how many tiles there was in the bathroom; basically anything he could do to distract himself, even if it was only for a few minutes. He didn't even look at his piano room. There was no used in playing it; without Lucy, the notes sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

He had to face the music. Lucy was his muse, and right now, his muse absolutely despised him. And, if he was being honest with himself, he completely despised her as well. It was all a mess, and it was all because of Lucy.

He needed to talk to someone, but who could he go to? Definitely not his mother, he would never get any worthwhile advice from her. His friends were out of the question; they wouldn't understand the gravity of the situation. Charlie Brown might be able to help him, but Schroeder didn't want to go to him for help. He was almost too wise and knowing for Schroeder's preference. He wanted someone who would understand what he was going through and wasn't going to degrade the importance of this situation.

There was only one person he knew who gives good advice: Lucy. There was no chance he was going to go to her for help, not even if hell froze over, but her brother was also known to give some helpful insight. And if Schroeder happened to see Lucy by chance, then that would just be icing on the cake.

With his mind made up, Schroeder got his jacket from the closet near the doorway and put it on. He quickly opened the door of his mother's study and told her where he was going before starting the short walk to Linus's house. Even though Linus was only a few blocks down, it seemed like an impossible distance to Schroeder. If he was more athletic, he would've ran to his destination. Unfortunately, sports had never been his forte; playing the piano, pathetically devoting his life to a deceased figure, and being completely ignorant of his surroundings was.

When Schroeder found himself in front of a familiar door, he quickly knocked on it before he could start second-guessing himself. Schroeder made up his mind to untangle the mess his feelings were in, and he wasn't about to back out. Even if he did see Lucy, it wouldn't affect him. Lucy was Lucy, Schroeder was Schroeder, and the Earth was round. There was absolutely no difference in their relationship.

Schroeder felt an amused smile cross his face. He always was a horrible liar. It was entertaining.

The smile quickly fell in disappointment when Linus opened the door. "Schroeder?" He asked, wrapped up in a blue blanket Schroeder hadn't seen since they were in elementary. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Schroeder felt himself smile again at Linus's proper diction. "I need advice," he said, getting straight to the point. He didn't want to stall his progress any further.

Thankfully, Linus didn't ask any questions. He just nodded and opened the door more, motioning Schroeder to enter. Schroeder walked into a deadly silent house; he was terrified of breaking it, but thankfully, Linus did so first.

"My parents are at work, Lucy is out, and Rerun is playing baseball with his friends, so we're alone right now," he said. Schroeder processed the information and felt confused. He should've felt relieved about Lucy's absence, but instead, all he felt was extreme disappointment. What was wrong with him?

Good grief. He desperately needed advice.

"Do you remember when we used to do that?" Linus continued, completely oblivious to Schroeder's inner turmoil. "When we used to play baseball in that small field?"

Schroeder smiled at the memory of the field. To his younger self, that field was a giant stretch of land that seemed to be never ending. Now, the abandoned field was just a small square of dirt that held many forgotten memories. As he grew up, the magic wore off and reality started to set in. As the pressure of his impeding future increased heavily on his shoulders and the judgement around him echoed louder, small pleasantries seemed less and less necessary. Everyone around him grew too, so it forced Schroeder to grow up along with them, but now after all of the events, maybe the field didn't shrink; maybe it was only Schroeder who grew up and out of his innocence. Innocence was replaced with ignorance.

No. That wasn't right. Ignorance was always there; it was just Schroeder. All this time, Schroeder believed he was so wise and intelligent beyond his years, but he was wrong. He was a genius prodigy on the piano, but in real-life, he was nothing. He knew and understood nothing. He was a complete idiot.

They finally settled into Linus's room. Linus sat on a rolling chair and made Schroeder lie down on his bed. It almost felt like a therapy session, but instead of laughing at the idea, Schroeder thought it was a good comparison. These new feelings definitely were traumatizing.

"Alright," Linus said, hugging his blanket tighter. "What's wrong?" The question was horribly broad, but Schroeder knew what Linus meant.

Schroeder stared at the blue ceiling for a bit, gathering his courage before closing his eyes and gulping. Here goes nothing. "I like Lucy." The few seconds of silence, while expected, were deafening. The regret trickled into Schroeder's mind and urged him to pretend his confession was a joke and run away, but he held his ground. This was torturous, waiting for an answer as Linus's presence drilled judgement into his mind, but he needed this answer.

Unfortunately, his answer wasn't what Schroeder expected. "Well, of course you do, Schroeder," Linus said, making Schroeder open his eyes and turn towards his friend. "Surprisingly, a lot of people like Lucy."

When the words processed through his mind, Schroeder groaned. "That's not what I meant," Schroeder said, roughly throwing himself back on the pillow. "I mean I..." He took a deep breath and covered his face with his hands, shame pooling onto his cheeks. "I like her, or I think I do."

He heard a sharp intake from Linus. "Oh," Linus lamely said. Schroeder didn't know if he was shocked or even mildly surprised (his apathetic demeanor was very misleading), but he was slightly grateful for it. This was exactly the reaction Schroeder was hoping for. "Why now, all of a sudden?"

He dropped his hands from his face and took a deep breath. "I don't know," Schroeder confessed as he entertained himself with the blue paint of the ceiling. "That's why I need your advice."

"Okay, then," Linus trailed off, unsure how to continue. This wasn't exactly a topic he was familiar with, but Schroeder was his good friend. He needed to help in any way he could. "When was it you noticed your feelings changed?"

Schroeder stopped his game with the ceiling. "Well..." He said, thinking back to the events that happened this week. "Probably Monday."

"Monday?" This time, Linus couldn't hide the shock in his voice. "Wow, that was a quick change. What happened on Monday?"

Schroeder sighed in frustration. Just the thought of that day brought horrible feelings. He roughly threw a hand on his eyes. There was a loud slap and it did hurt, but it was a welcomed distraction. This small physical pain was much more pleasant than the disgusting feelings he felt within. "Well, Lucy didn't come over to my house after school that day because she went to the stupid library, and even though I thought it would be the advantage of a lifetime, I couldn't play. At all. I felt so frustrated, and then on Tuesday at school, she didn't even talk to me at all! She wasn't ignoring me, but she didn't acknowledge me either. She wasn't glued by side like she normally is. Then, when we were at my house that day, she didn't say anything at all."

"Anything?" Linus asked with his eyebrows furrowed.

Schroeder looked at his friend and nodded slightly enthusiastically. Finally, someone understood his disbelief. "Nothing. She just read her stupid book, completely ignored my existence, and then left. That was what happened for Wednesday, and Thursday, and Friday."

A moment of silence passed when Schroeder finished. Although he stopped talking, Linus knew it wasn't the end of the story. Schroeder was holding information back, and Linus knew it was because of how uncomfortable and awkward this situation was. Schroeder was obviously confused, and this was all new to him, but still, if Schroeder needed helpful advice, then he needed to tell Linus everything.

"Are you sure that was all that happened?" Linus pried. He hated himself for doing it, but it was necessary. If Schroeder wanted good advice, then Linus needed to know the full story. "Nothing else happened?"

Schroeder felt his shoulders tense. It was when he thought back to his actions that he realized just who he was talking to. Linus, who was also Lucy's brother. "I don't know!" He said, a feeling of annoyance washing through his body. "I didn't know what I was doing, but it was all Lucy's fault! Her with her loud personality and her curly black hair and her cute facial expressions..." Schroeder trailed off, his mind thinking back to yesterday at the park.

She was absolutely breathtaking and beautiful; how did she expect Schroeder to act diplomatic? There was absolutely no way Schroeder could hold himself back, and although a part of his brain told him he was to blame, the more dominant part screamed it was Lucy's fault. Lucy was to blame for everything that had changed. Schroeder's life turned a complete 180, and it was all Lucy's fault.

Linus had absolutely no idea what Schroeder meant, but he didn't have to. He knew exactly what had changed. "Ah. I see."

Schroeder looked up at his friend before stirring up and moving over to the edge of the bed. "You see what?" He asked, desperate for answers.

If Schroeder wanted answers, then that was exactly what Linus was going to give him. "Well, you are dependent of Lucy, but you've barely realized she is an independent entity."

Schroeder knew all of the words Linus spoke, but for some reason, he couldn't understand was Linus said. "What?"

Linus didn't sigh in frustration like Schroeder thought he would. Instead, he just nodded and elaborated, "Well, you both were stuck in a daily routine that you'd become accustomed to, so when Lucy suddenly changed it, it affected you. She didn't go over to your place that day because she decided going to the library was more important. She didn't talk to you all day at school because she believed her friends were more important. She doesn't bother you when you play because she was focused on her studies. She changed her image because she felt like it. She realized herself personally is more important than you.

"You always thought she would be by your side and follow you around like a lost puppy forever, but now that you realized she is her own person and doesn't actually depend on you, you freak out. Schroeder, Lucy isn't obsessed with you in a way that she depends on you; her obsession is something akin to child's play. You, on the other hand, are obsessed with her to the point where you need her. She has turned into your muse, Schroeder, and because of that, you are completely dependent on her."

This time, the words did process correctly through his mind. In fact, they processed too perfectly for Schroeder's liking. He understood perfectly what Linus meant. Lucy didn't need him, but he needed Lucy. "So I don't like her?" He asked meekly, almost disappointedly.

Linus shrugged, wrapping his blanket around his shoulders. "That's up to you to decide. One thing that is completely true is that you need Lucy, but you need to keep in mind that she doesn't need you. She wanted you, and I think she's realized you've just been taking advantage of that."

The antagonistic portrayal Linus seemed to have placed on Schroeder made a surge of anger flow through his body. "But I haven't!" Schroeder yelled defensively, shooting up from his seat on the bed.

Linus remained unfazed, though. "Haven't you?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Tell me, when's the last time you've selflessly done something for Lucy?"

Schroeder stayed staring at Linus, and when the seconds dragged on to minutes, he pathetically sat back down on the bed. Linus's question rang through his mind, but no memory popped into his head. There was no answer to the question because Linus was right. Schroeder had been selfish. He took Lucy's crush and ignored it. He saw her true feelings and kicked them to the curb. He treated her like she was nothing more than a pebble in his shoe, a nuisance. There were even instances where he chose his piano over her, an inanimate, unimportant object over a living, breathing, beautiful human being. It was absolutely ridiculous what he did, and now, Linus's interpretation of this situation made sense. Schroeder had treated her horribly, and Lucy realized she deserved better.

Schroeder felt a horrible pain in his chest, but he ignored it and asked, "So she's done with me? She's..." He trailed off, forcing the knot in his throat to go down before continuing, "she's over me?"

Linus sighed, making note of the fear overshadowing Schroeder's face. He needed to ease his fears, but Linus couldn't lie either. He couldn't give Schroeder any false hope, so he answered, "I don't know. You'll have to ask my sister for that."

Schroeder turned away when Linus called Lucy his sister. Lucy was his sister, and here Schroeder was asking for advice on how to fix the confusion he gave Lucy, his sister. When he turned away, his eyes focused on Linus's nightstand, more specifically the picture of Sally he had there. Sally, his girlfriend.

Schroeder smiled sadly before standing up from the bed. "Thanks Linus," he said, nodding towards his friend.

Linus nodded back. "Anytime." That was all Schroeder heard before walking out of Linus's room, out his house, and onto the quiet street. It was already getting late, so Schroeder decided it was time he should get home. All throughout the physically tiring walk, Schroeder thought back to his conversation with Linus.

He had told Linus his feelings changed last Monday, but he was wrong. They changed a long time ago, but Schroeder ignored all of the signs. Now, as the words Linus spoke brought up a memory Schroeder kept buried in his head, he knew he couldn't ignore it anymore.

It was the end of fifth grade and once again, the class was assigned their summer pen-pal project, something Schroeder absolutely hated. Every year, Lucy always took it upon herself to immediately volunteer as his pen-pal, and every year, Schroeder resented it. He already saw Lucy almost all day every day, and that was more than enough in Schroeder's opinion. He expected Lucy to once again be his pen-pal, but Lucy was always full of surprises. When Charlie Brown's name got called, Lucy stood up and volunteered herself.

Schroeder was understandably shocked, but what shocked him the most was that no one else was shocked. The rest of his class wasn't even surprised. Apparently, Lucy and Charlie Brown were assigned as partners for a project in another class, and during that time, they had become good friends. Lucy was still mean to Charlie, but it was their way of friendship. Even Charlie Brown would fire back some comebacks of his own (something Schroeder first saw during the seventh grade), and their rude nature was how they stayed friends. Even now, Lucy and Charlie Brown were good friends and it isn't unnatural to see them hang out, but to a young Schroeder who usually kept to himself in the fifth grade, it was a sign that the world was going to end.

There were times during the summer when Schroeder would pinch himself because this couldn't be happening. Lucy Van Pelt and Charlie Brown. While they weren't exactly best friends (Lucy's best friend at the time was most likely Violet while Charlie's was Linus), their newfound friendship was strange beyond belief. Lucy still came every day to Schroeder's house, but some days, she had Charlie in tow. While Schroeder would practice, the two of them would do almost anything they could in that room, creating a horrible ruckus. It got to the point where Schroeder wished for the summer to end, and even though he was good friends with Charlie Brown, Schroeder began to resent his presence. He had dismissed all of these feelings as just annoyance towards their rowdiness, but now he realized the true reason why their company wasn't welcomed.

That was the moment, Schroeder realized, when he was no longer the most important person in Lucy's life.

Schroeder felt an unbearable sharp pain again in his chest, and tears stung to his eyes. He blinked them back, though, when his front door came into his sight. There was no way he would let his mother see his tears. Even if it meant holding back whatever he was feeling, he would never trouble his parents with anything. They did so much for him already; it would be completely selfish of him to add any problems.

As Schroeder walked into his house with that thought, he laughed. He didn't want to be selfish and trouble anyone with his problems. Well, it hasn't stopped him before, so why should he be so considerate now?

"Schroeder? Are you home?" His mother called out to him from her study.

Schroeder cleared his constricting throat. "Yeah, I'm home. I'm going to bed," he said. It was still very early for bedtime, but he was mentally exhausted. He couldn't stay awake for one more minute.

"Okay, sweetie! Have a good sleep!" With her permission, Schroeder started up the stairs. On his way to his room, he passed by his piano room and felt a dark cloud settled over him as he looked inside it. The room looked absolutely pathetic compared to before. The piano, that once was the only meaning in his life, was now lifeless. The black color, that once shined brightly, was now dull. Of course it was dull; compared to her hair, the black piano was definitely lacking.

His fingers twitched with anticipation.

Schroeder forced himself away from the piano and walked into his room. He didn't have enough energy to take a shower, so Schroeder just changed into his pajamas and threw himself into his bed.

Hopefully, he suffered enough today for Fate to sympathize for him and allow him a full night of rest. Hopefully.


	4. Chapter 4

Schroeder woke up to a gentle hand on his forehead. He knew it was his mother checking on him. She probably thought he was sick since he slept early last night, but even though he knew who was touching him, his body unconsciously stiffened. There was something different. Her hand felt softer and gentler than what he was used to. From his forehead, the hand skimmed downward to his cheek before tracing his jawline. Goosebumps covered his arms and his heart started to beat faster, but he remained perfectly still.

He was terrified. He didn't want his mother to know he wasn't sick and force him to go to school. He couldn't face Lucy knowing she probably hated his guts. He definitely couldn't face Linus. He couldn't face Charlie freaking Brown. He probably couldn't even look at himself, let alone a school that undoubtedly knew about Lucy and him. Sure he didn't tell a soul about his internal dilemma, and Lucy had enough pride and integrity to keep their _odd_ interactions to herself, and Linus was a good friend who wouldn't gossip about personal issues, but that didn't silence his doubts.

They knew. His classmates knew. His parents knew. Hell, maybe even the entire town knew. Schroeder was an emotional wreck, and everyone knew. He couldn't face them. He could barely think of Lucy without transforming into an incompetent fool. He wasn't ready to go to school full of whispers and judgement. He couldn't be in the same place as Lucy.

"I knew you weren't sick!"

Schroeder felt his heart drop. He'd recognized that obnoxious voice even if he was deaf. He snapped his eyes open and shot up from his bed, meeting Lucy's judgmental gaze. She was standing near his nightstand with a stack of papers in her arms and her backpack on the floor wearing purple out of all colors. Schroeder frowned.

Purple? Lucy never wore purple. Purple was always his color while blue was hers. Why did she wear a purple shirt? And with black pants? All she needed was blonde hair and a piano in front of her, and she could've been a replica of Schroeder. Still, despite how unnerving it might've seemed, Schroeder absolutely loved how she looked. Her curious outfit choice was most like unintentional; she would never follow Schroeder's example on fashion (Lucy was never a follower), but it still gave Schroeder an odd sense of satisfaction.

She went to school in that outfit. Others saw her wearing something akin to Schroeder. Even if he hadn't seen her in forever (two days), he still had an unconscious effect on her. She still thought of him, and in a way, this made her his. Schroeder felt disgusted on his possessive thinking, but that feeling was buried underneath his pride. He still had a strong influence on her. Lucy was Schroeder's, and if he was being completely honest with himself, Schroeder was Lucy's.

Just like it should be.

"There was a rumor going around saying you got the stomach flu or something, but I knew that was a complete lie," Lucy continued, shifting her weight from her right leg to her left. Schroeder never noticed just how wide her hips were. And how thin her waist was. And how-

"What are you doing here?" He said. He tried to sound irritated or remotely displeased, but those emotions fell flat. All he could feel was joy and excitement. Lucy was here, barging into his house and into his room just like she did before.

When Lucy rolled her eyes, Schroeder felt like playing his piano. "The principal personally asked me to bring all of your missed school work to you."

"Why?"

Another eye roll. "Well, I think it's because he doesn't want the only person with talent in Hennepin County to fail high school before he can amount to something and make a name for himself, so here," she said, rudely throwing a stack of papers on Schroeder. "Also, Mrs. Myers said you have until tomorrow to turn in your report." And just like that, Schroeder felt his mood turn sour. He let out a small groan before burying his face in his hands. "Judging by that sound, I'd say you haven't finished it?"

"I haven't even started it," he mumbled into his hands.

"Really, Schroeder?" She exasperatedly asked, rolling her eyes. "You got your idol as the subject for your report. It should've taken you 30 minutes to complete it."

The arrogance in her tone normally would've struck a nerve in Schroeder, but he had to force himself to glare at her. "Did you finish yours?"

"Yes I did, actually," Lucy shot back. Of course she did, Schroeder thought, his head filled with happiness. He tried to belittle her and she reminded him on her superiority. He missed these types of conversations with her. "I stopped crying long enough on Saturday to type it out. In fact, I had more than enough time to do two reports, one on Harper Lee and the other on Ludwig van Beethoven."

Schroeder's glare was replaced with a look of shock. "What?"

Lucy just rolled her eyes and tossed the packet of paper she withheld earlier. "I knew you wouldn't write it, so I just typed something out."

Schroeder couldn't stop himself from grinning. "Thank you," he quietly said, though he didn't direct it towards Lucy. It was for fate or destiny or whichever supernatural force that controlled this conversation.

Lucy scoffed. "Yeah, whatever," she dismissed, waving her arm. That was how it was supposed to be.

But Schroeder's happiness was short lived when Lucy turned around and started walking towards the door. That wasn't how it was supposed to be.

Before he could even blink, Schroeder yelled, "Wait!" And for what seemed like the first time in forever, Lucy actually listened to him.

"What?" She asked, turning around to face him. Schroeder froze.

It felt as if this was the first time Schroeder had ever seen Lucy. There was a difference in her physical appearance these past few days (curly hair, purple clothes), but that wasn't drastic enough for her to look like a complete stranger, and that's how she looked now. Lucy didn't look like Lucy. She didn't feel like Lucy. She didn't give off the same aura as Lucy, but it was Lucy. She just had to be different. She had to. There was no way Lucy could change so much in the short amount of time they had spent away from each other. This couldn't be Lucy. It had to be an imposter or a clone.

But it wasn't. He knew this was Lucy, the same girl he had grown up with ever since they were little kids. He saw her every day for years, and he had watched her go through life. He was there when her signature blue dress was too small and was replaced with jeans and shirts. He was there when Lucy's baby teeth fell out one by one and were replaced with the perfect rows of teeth she smiled with now. He was there when she forced him to any place she wanted to go, calling them "dates". He was there when she first used her money from her psychiatric stand to buy them McDonalds. He was there when she started learning how to (horribly) drive. Every movie night, piano recital, and family gathering, Schroeder and Lucy were seen together. No one would ever see one without the other.

Except for now because there was something different with Lucy, and he had to know what it was.

"Schroeder, do you actually have something to say?" She spat at him. It was expected Lucy would be sarcastic and impatient with Schroeder, but her question caused his eyebrows to furrow. There was too much spite, too much venom in her words than what Schroeder was used to. That's when he noticed her fists clenched by her sides.

Schroeder's eyes shot a quick glance at the closed door then turned back to her. "You're not going to stop by?" He said before he could think his words through.

Lucy scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Schroeder, I'm in your room. This is me stopping by," she said haughtily, "and right now, this is me leaving." She turned back around, and this time, Schroeder got out of his bed. His hair fell over his eyes.

"No, I mean you're not going to stay?" He asked loudly.

Lucy stilled for a second. "Do you want me to?" She asked without turning around.

He did. He wanted her to stay in his house and act as if she lived there. He wanted her to lean against his piano and act as if every song he played was dedicated to her. He wanted her to look at him with love-stricken eyes and absolute desperation, but he just couldn't express any of this. He stayed silent, and Lucy misunderstood. "Figures. Besides, I have other important things to do."

Schroeder scoffed, sitting back on his bed. Well, if he wasn't worth her time, then she wasn't worth his effort. "Of course you do," he bitterly said, glaring at her hand on his doorknob. Her hand stopped turning, though, and Lucy snapped to his direction.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She snapped.

Schroeder was slightly taken aback by her tone, but he stood his ground. "Nothing."

Lucy laughed in disbelief before dropping her backpack once more and crossing her arms. "For your information, I have to analyze and present a court case for AP Government by the end of this week," she explained, glaring straight into Schroeder's eyes. Schroeder glared back. "I'm sorry my life doesn't revolve around you."

Suddenly, Schroeder didn't feel challenged. Her sarcastic apology greatly disturbed him. Even though Linus informed him Lucy was her own person yesterday, his mind hadn't accepted this concept yet. But hearing her, Lucy, the one who caused all of his problems, say it affected him. Lucy truly was independent.

His glare relaxed; instead, he decided to look down at his hands. "It used to," he quietly said.

He heard Lucy sigh. "Yeah, it used to, and where has that gotten me?" It was a rhetorical question, but even if it wasn't, Schroeder couldn't respond because the answer drove a knife through his heart. Nowhere. Lucy went absolutely nowhere when she chased him. "Schroeder, unlike you, some of us don't have any talent that can get schools interested in us. Some of us have to work for it."

"Didn't you have a plan for all of that?" He asked, looking up at Lucy with a hopeful expression. "Didn't you say you were going to be a musician's wife? Didn't you say we were going to go broke if I wasn't good enough? Didn't you say you'd make a beautiful tuna casserole and I'd say 'tuna casserole again?' Didn't you say you'd fry my coffee every morning?" Again, more rhetorical questions. Yes, she did say all of that, and she meant it. She truly loved Schroeder as a kid, but he only realized it now when she absolutely loathed him.

Lucy's expression softened. "I didn't think you were listening," she whispered, but Schroeder heard her clearly.

"Of course I was listening," he responded, looking down and fiddling with the hem of his shirt. He needed his piano. "It's impossible to ignore things that..."

"Things that what?" Her voice reverted back to its original volume. She stepped closer to him with each question. "That are lies? That are annoying fantasies? That are stupid dreams that will never happen?"

More rhetorical questions, but this time, Schroeder had to answer them. "Things that give you hope." He cringed at his voice. He sounded so defeated and weak; it made him sick, but that was what Lucy did. She brought him to his knees. She bothered him and frustrated him until he was at wits end. She pushed every button he didn't know he had, and he was sick of it. He wanted things to be simple, either she was in his life or not.

But it wasn't that simple. When she was with him, she drove him crazy. When she wasn't, he drove himself crazy. There was no balance.

He finally looked up at Lucy. She kept her sights on Schroeder. She had a general look of apathy on her face, but every now and then, her façade would break.

Eyebrows furrowed. Apathy. Swallow. Apathy. Eyes closed. Reopened. Deep breath. Apathy. Lips licked. Apathy. Apathy. Apathy. Lips pursed. Bottom lip quivered. Shaky breath. Watery eyes. Heavy breathing.

Schroeder turned away. That was the ugliest he had ever seen Lucy. Unlike Saturday, there was no beauty in her expression. She was heartbroken and confused, and Schroeder caused that. It wasn't Lucy that was ugly (no matter how she felt, what she did, or who she was, she will always the most perfect human being Schroeder laid his eyes on); it was Schroeder, and because of his ugliness, it tainted her.

This entire week, Schroeder thought Lucy tainted him. He even thought of her as a disease, one that was unforgiving and ruined everything, but he was only focusing on himself. He never once thought about Lucy's side of these events, and he never thought about all of the previous years. He only thought about things that were convenient for him and his perspective. He was completely ignorant of the truth in this situation, and that only hurt him and Lucy.

He looked at her nail polish. The same dark blue color was painted, but the tips were chipped. Her nails were also chewed on. Lucy hadn't bitten her nails since they were 12. It was a habit she showed when she was nervous, but once Sally introduced her to the incredible world of "nail art," Lucy kicked the habit.

Schroeder's finger's twitched. He needed to fiddle with something. He wanted to play his piano, but this wasn't the most appropriate time. His shirt wasn't satisfying enough. He needed something more. He needed something fulfilling. He needed someone.

He took a deep breath, gathered whatever courage he had left, then grabbed her hand. He just held it, and when Lucy didn't pull away, Schroeder decided to take one step further and interlaced their fingers. She kept her fingers locked, but he didn't let it bother him. His fingers brushed her knuckles while his thumb caressed the curve between her thumb and index finger. Her breathing softened, and slowly, he coerced her fingers into bending. Finally, centuries later, their hands were clasped together, and Schroeder smiled. Her short, stubby fingers felt absolutely perfect touching his hand. Her hand was so small and pulpous compared to his calloused and long one. He was made to hold her hand.

One drop of water fell onto his hand, and Lucy abruptly took her hand away. She roughly rubbed her face before crossing her arms over her chest. It was only then Schroeder realized one thing:

Her hair was straightened.

"What do you want, Schroeder?" She asked in a small, tired voice.

A million responses popped in Schroeder's head. He wanted to perform on a national stage. He wanted to become a hailed composer like Beethoven. He wanted to be remembered through history. He wanted to compose at least one original song. He wanted to get accepted into Julliard. He wanted to get recognized for his years of practice and dedication. He wanted to graduate high school. He wanted to excel in the yearly standardized test this year. He wanted to pass all of his classes with an A. He wanted to be able to play his piano again. He wanted to sort all of this confusion. He wanted Lucy.

"I'm sorry," Schroeder finally said after a few minutes of silence. "I just... I just need..." He drifted off. What did he need? Security? Privacy? Her? "Time. I need some time," he finished.

"Schroeder," Lucy started, her voice surprisingly strong, but then again, Lucy was always a strong person. "I already gave you time. Why should I give you more?"

Another rhetorical question, and Schroeder felt their relationship take two steps back. "I don't know," he pathetically answered. He stared at her simple black shoes.

A moment of silence passed again. Then, Lucy sighed. "Neither do I." Schroeder didn't look up. Instead, he watched as an arm came into his line of vision. He saw the arm lift the backpack on the floor before disappearing. Then, the shoes disappeared. He heard his door open, and then he only heard his heartbeat and his heavy breathing. He couldn't even hear her footsteps going down the stairs.

"Lucy!" His mother yelled downstairs. Schroeder frowned. The sun was too bright for his mother to be home now. She must've gotten out early. "How wonderful to see you!"

"Hello," she said. Her response was curt but polite. There was no hint of informality, and she didn't call his mother by his name. Schroeder doubted Lucy hugged her.

And his mother must've noticed. "Are you alright sweetie?"

"Yes, I'm fine, ma'am."

Schroeder sighed and laid down on his bed and report. This was horrible.

"Oh, well do you want to stay for dinner?"

"I'm sorry, but I need to get home. I only stopped by to drop off the schoolwork Schroeder missed today."

"Oh, my poor pianist," he heard his mother sigh. "He slept straight through his alarm, and he kept tossing even when I tried to wake him up. Was he okay when you saw him?"

There was a short pause. "He was still sleeping. I just left his stuff on his desk."

"Well, I'm going to check on him. Thank you, Lucy."

"You're welcome."

"You're like a daughter to me. I hope Schroeder comes to his senses and realizes how great you are." Schroeder clenched his fists. His mother needed to shut up.

There was another pause before the front door opened and closed. Schroeder sighed before frustratingly throwing the bed sheet over his body. He breathed roughly, and he didn't even try to control it when his mother came.

"Schroeder?" She quietly called out, and when he didn't answer, she came into his room. Her high heels made a horrible noise as she walked. She pulled back the covers and put a firm hand on Schroeder's forehead before moving to his cheek and jawline.

"I'm better," Schroeder said. His mother nodded then smiled.

"You feel better." She grabbed the bottle of Tylenol she left on his nightstand and gave him a dose. She grabbed the unopened water bottle and handed it to him with a disapproving look. "You need to be drinking fluids," she scolded. Schroeder nodded. "I'm going to start lunch. If you feel up for it, come down to eat. If not, then I definitely want you downstairs for dinner." With that said, she walked out of his room, closed the door, and walked to the kitchen to make lunch. Schroeder heard every step.

Schroeder sat up and placed the water bottle back on the nightstand. He grabbed the bottle of Tylenol and put the two pills back into the bottle. He took a deep breath before lying back on his bed and closing his eyes.

He slept through lunch. He fell asleep quick enough and had no unpleasant dreams, so he did find the strength to go downstairs for dinner. His father was also home; he got out early for the same reason his mother did, so for the first time in a long time, they had a family dinner. His mother made Beef Stew, Schroeder's favorite, but Schroeder didn't eat. He didn't want food.

He was excused early when he promised to take another dose of medicine. He trudged upstairs, passing his piano room. The door was still open. He walked in, heading straight for his piano. His pride and joy was now sitting pathetically in the center of the room. Dust was on the keys. It pained him to see the beautiful instrument in this condition, but as his fingers grazed the keys, his heart stopped and he stalked his way out of the room. He didn't want to play.

When he finally reached his room, he closed the door and locked his room. He threw himself on his bed, his body protesting the rough treatment. He felt tired and sore, and his head pounded, but he stopped himself from sleeping. Through the night, he fought against his heavy eyelids. He didn't want to rest.

He didn't want any type of sanctuary. He just wanted to hold Lucy's hand again.

When Schroeder went to school the next day, he was a complete mess.


End file.
